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Sunday, 29 July 2012

Alive

She bleeds, randomly
I wonder when cracked
Heels shall heal
She looks in the mirror
Before she looks at me
The swelling hurts my cheeks
This medication is for today,
This medication is for eight weeks
And this medication is for
The rest of your bleak, existence
We have no guarantee
That this will work but we'll
Pump it in your blood anyway
Don't complain as we jab your arm
To find a vein and it is all in vain
Because she is no longer alive
The shine in her eyes
Replaced by the tears of
Three years of gritted teeth
Her bones ache , hair falling
From its place
Hands shake as she drops
Asleep in the middle of the day
Tracing the lines of veins
Through papery thin skin
I wonder how it came to this
I stand silently in her room
Making sure the duvets move
And that her frail little heart
Has made it through this July
Alive

And if you were to count Allah's favors, you would not be able to number them; most surely Allah is Forgiving, Merciful.
SÅ«rah al-Nahl:
Verse 18



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